


Disney Prince Erik

by teakturn



Series: 25 Days of Christmas Challenge [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Cinderella Elements, Disney Prince Erik, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Sweetheart, F/M, Glass Slippers (Cinderella), Love at First Sight, Not Black Panther (2018) Compliant, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakturn/pseuds/teakturn
Summary: What if Erik and Fallon were in a Disney movie?
Relationships: Erik Killmonger & T'Challa, Erik Killmonger/Fallon King, Erik Killmonger/Original Female Character(s), Erik Killmonger/Original Female Character(s) of Color
Series: 25 Days of Christmas Challenge [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559182
Kudos: 15





	Disney Prince Erik

**Author's Note:**

> **From Anon:** _idk how interested you would be but i know you're asking for prompts...i really love the way you write fallon in your christmas stories, she reminds me of a disney princess. i thought it would be really cute to read a story about erik as a disney prince falling in love or something. i know that's not very specific but i thought i'd share_

“The locals will think you strange if they catch you staring at that shoe, cousin.”

T’Challa’s voice, warm and joking and concerned, broke Erik’s concentration. He’d been staring at the glass heel in his hand since they’d left the palace. As if staring would unlock its secrets and lead him to the woman he couldn’t get out his mind.

“Do I look like I care,” Erik scoffed. He put the slipper back in the velvet bag he’d brought to carry it in and stared out the window instead.

They were headed back to the Golden City. Fields, cattle, and dirt roads gave way to bustling crowds, tall buildings, and the usual noise of city life. They’d gone through nearly a dozen villages with no luck. Of the women in the village, very few had ever seen the glass slipper and even those that had couldn’t fit it. Though every woman wanted to try.

“We will find her, Daka. We have yet to scour every village, I’ll have Shuri cross-reference the guest list with the villages we’ve already searched. I’m sure she’ll find something we haven’t.” T’Challa spoke in that assured, calm way Erik was used to. T’Challa didn’t like to worry before he had to. He was reserved in his emotions. Cool, still water to Erik’s burning inferno. 

Usually, when T’Challa spoke this way, Erik would clap back. Say something smart, or funny, or just fucking ridiculous. Anything to get a rise out of his cousin and shift the focus off of himself. This time Erik didn’t bother. He was exhausted from waking up early and running around the countryside. He was tired of hoping for something he was sure he’d never have again.

Warm, brown eyes looking up at him from behind a mask of faceted crystal. Her mask and her eyes caught the light, turning them brighter than the stars. Erik could have stared at her all night but like an idiot, he’d turned his head and lost her for the rest of the night.

The ball had been his uncle’s idea. The King of Wakanda wanted to see his boys married before he passed. With Erik and T’Challa in their thirties, the patriarch had gotten tired of waiting for them to find a partner and threw a party for the entire kingdom instead. Everyone was invited and the party went on into the early hours of the morning before anyone thought about starting their journeys home.

T’Challa and Erik had done their duty as the guests of honor and danced with as many women as they could. Erik had even played nice until a woman was bold enough to grip his ass right there on the dancefloor. He’d gripped her hand and twisted, ready to make her cry or shame her right there in the ballroom. Then _She_ appeared, petite but strong, and saved the woman from his wrath.

“And I thought princes’ were supposed to be gentlemen.” her accent reminded Erik of home. Of elote men and housing complexes. He’d been intrigued by her immediately, all thoughts of that rude woman gone.  
For the rest of the night Erik and the woman -the Glass Princess, he began calling her, stayed close. They danced for an hour and then retired to the palace gardens for a break from the party. They bonded over being Californians, traded stories about the emigration process from America to Wakanda, and teased each other like children.

As a prince, Erik would always be distanced from those he met. Whether through class, wealth, or experience, his title would always come up in any relationship he had. The Glass Princess was unfazed by his lineage. She called him Erik instead of Prince N’Jadaka like everyone else in the country, and she asked him about _him_. Not his uncle or cousins, not his father. Just him.

Erik couldn’t remember the last time he’d just been a man to a woman, not a prince.

As the night wore on Erik dreaded admitting to his uncle that his plan had worked. He was curious about the Glass Princess but most of all he was attracted to her. Her body, her voice, the way she talked about her work the way most people talked about their favorite book or movie. She wouldn’t tell him her name but Erik preferred to call her princess, _his_ princess, anyway.

By the time dawn began peeking through the dense thicket of foliage they’d called a hiding spot, Erik had resolved to find out everything he could about her and marry her before anyone else did.

They fell asleep curled towards each other on a bed made of Erik’s jacket and moss. When he woke up, the Glass Princess was gone.

The two princes’ returned to the palace at dusk. T’Challa gave Erik his space but not before reiterating his plan to check in with Shuri. Erik said nothing, spoke to no one and set off through the palace halls without any destination in mind.

How did this happen? Why was he sprung on a chick he met once? Sure, they’d talked all night. And yes, he’d opened up more with her than he had with his family and all the therapists they’d hired in his lifetime. Maybe he even enjoyed the feeling of sleeping next to another body. But was all that enough to send him around the fucking country, clutching a woman’s shoe as if his life depended on it?

Erik lifted the velvet bag and glared at it. He should just smash the shit and get over it. It was embarrassing enough he was looking for her when she’d left before he woke up for a reason. The woman was probably trying to send him a hint and Erik was being pathetic searching for her anyway. Just because their night together meant a lot to him doesn’t mean it meant a lot to her.

That thought alone made Erik’s stomach hurt. One of the few times he’d tried being vulnerable and it didn’t mean jack shit in the end. Story of his life.

Erik turned a corner absently, his mind weighed the pros and cons of getting rid of the shoe. As he reminded himself he’d have to swear Shuri and T’Challa to secrecy about this whole situation a small body collided with his.

The velvet bag went flying. Erik caught his balance just in time to hold onto the other body as they lost their footing completely and fell into him.

“Oomph,” the person-woman, in his arms grunted. The tablet they’d been carrying clattered to the floor. Behind them, the velvet bag hit the floor with an ominous thud.

Steadying them both, Erik eyed the bag and mentally prayed the shoe hadn’t shattered. Yeah, he may have wanted to throw it away or destroy it but it was his only tangible proof that night had happened at all. No one else had seen him with the woman, Shuri’s footage showed only bad angles and blurry side profiles.

If he broke that shoe, he lost any connection he had to the woman who’d been wearing it.

“My, bad,” Erik spoke absentmindedly as extricating himself from the woman to go after the shoe.”

“No no, it’s my fault. I was neck-deep in this…” the woman continued but Erik stopped listening, more focused on her voice than whatever words she was saying.

He turned, the slipper and bag completely forgotten, and found himself looking at a petite, dark-skinned woman with brown eyes that twinkled even in the natural sunlight filtered in through the glass walls of the hallway. Long dark hair, straightened into a shiny wave, curled against one shoulder. Her scent, vanilla, and honey mixed with natural hair products, tickled Erik’s nose. He’d smelled that scent before, heard that voice with its unmistakable Californian speech cadence.

Distantly, Erik realized she was still talking, still apologizing, but he hesitated to interrupt her. What if he spoke and she disappeared again? 

His silence must have reached her through her chatter because the woman stopped speaking and looked at him. Really, stared and studied him. Erik’s eyes poured over her face looking for any expression of recognition.

“...Oh,” she said.

Erik smirked and took a step towards her. She took a stumbling step backward.

“Prince N’Jadaka I didn’t see you there. So sorry to interrupt you on your…” she looked around, Erik wondered if she was trying to avoid meeting his eyes. He couldn’t stop staring at her.  
“I-I’ll just be going,” she saluted him with a jerky motion, her arms impeded by the tablet she’d scooped up and pressed to her chest, and turned to leave.

Erik was quick to nab her elbow and halt her escape, “Where you goin’... _princess_?”

Jerking out of his grip, the woman gave him a wide-eyed look that told Erik everything he needed to know. It was _her_! She was the woman he was looking for. And now she was trying to run away yet again.

“The only _princess_ around here,” the woman said, “Is the Princess Shuri Udaku of Wakanda. I am just a servant to the crown.” belated she added, “Your Majesty,”

Erik smiled, he’d missed that. He’d missed the way she could sound both polite and done with is shit. She’d been like this the night before. Sharp with her words one minute and then censored the next. Erik had made a game out of pushing her past her politeness to get to who she really was. To the woman, she’d be if he were just a man and not a prince.

“Servants have names,” Erik licked his lips, wishing he’d gotten a kiss that night. Her lips had been glossy and tantalizing when they met and then soft-looking and inviting as the slept under the stars. Now they were all business, pressed tight to fight off smiles, and painted an almost nude brown color.

Looking side to side the woman answered, “My name is Fallon, your majesty. And if you don’t mind I’d like to leave-”

“And if I do mind,” Erik challenged.

Fallon’s eyes lit up, with rage or annoyance or interest Erik couldn’t tell. But he could see her carefully shifting through her emotions and possible responses. Erik refused to give her a chance to escape again.

“Actually I need your help,” he went back for the velvet bag, careful to keep Fallon in his sights at all times.

“Anything, your majesty.”

Erik smirked, “Anything?”

With narrowed eyes, Fallon glared him down, “Within reason… your majesty.”

Pretending to pout Erik checked to bag to make sure the shoe hadn’t broken -it hadn’t-then he beckoned Fallon closer. She took her time coming over, almost dragging her feet to delay the inevitable.

Eventually, she was at his side, her body taut with tension. Erik made her sweat it out a second longer and just as it looked like she might snap at him he thrust the bag at her, “Try this on.”

Fallon’s eyes bounced from the bag to Erik and back again. Placing her tablet under her arm, she took the bag from Erik’s hand and reached inside. He knew instantly when she’d found the slipper because she jerked. Her hand didn’t leave the bag but she looked up at Erik with nothing but questions in her pretty brown eyes.

She said nothing though, just took the slipper out and held it in her palm.

When Fallon continued to hesitate, Erik nodded for her to continue, “Go on, the crown commands it.”

At that Fallon took the slipper out, shook off her shoe, and bent to slide the glass slipper on. All while glaring at Erik as she did it. Once her foot slid perfectly into the heel she cocked an eyebrow at Erik.

 _What now?_ Her eyes seemed to say. What she actually said was, “Is the crown satisfied?”

Erik beamed at her, dimples coming out in full force, “We’re getting there. But the crown would be a lot more satisfied if you’d give me the honor of taking you to dinner. And then stuck around so I could take you out again.”

Fallon’s eyes widened, all traces of annoyance or bravado was gone. Erik studied her expressions greedily. Without the mask hiding her from view, he was struck by her beauty. He could see glimpses of it through the crystal, but nothing beat this. If he wanted, he could caress the satiny smooth looking skin of her cheek.

“Your Majesty…” Fallon faltered. 

Biting his lip Erik took her hand in his, “You don’t know how long I’ve searched for you. If you want nothing to do with me, I’ll respect that. But I really wanna get to know you. That night we spent together…”

He couldn’t put into words how much it meant to him, how much she meant to him already. Luckily, he didn’t have to. Fallon nodded and held his hand in hers and took a step closer.

“I know.” she said, “But I don’t know how this could work between us. I work for the crown, you are the crown. There have to be rules around this kind of thing.”

Erik shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. I’ll change them, I don’t give a fuck. I just can’t lose you again.”

What little distance left between them was bridged by Fallon stepping into Erik’s arms. They held each other close. Between one breath and the next, their hearts beat in sync and neither one could ever imagine trying to part ways again.


End file.
